Wingman
by poestheblackcat
Summary: Eliot decides that Lindsey needs a more active social life. Because he's the big brother and that's what big brothers do. Besides, Eliot is an AWESOME wingman. He totally is. Anyone who can get Lindsey McDonald a date has to be awesome by default. "McDonald Boys" verse, after "Sky's Gonna Open."


Summary: Eliot decides that Lindsey needs a more active social life. Because _he's_ the big brother and that's what big brothers do. Besides, Eliot is an _awesome_ wingman. He totally is. Anyone who can get Lindsey McDonald a date has to be awesome by default. "McDonald Boys" verse, after "Sky's Gonna Open."

(I almost wrote "McDonald Bots," lol! That makes me think of an AU where Eliot and Lindsey are actually robots...I mean...Noooooo! Bad plot bunny! I'm kidding, by the way...)

I wanted Bandit in this story at first, but couldn't find a way to make the story flow with him in it (he lives up to his name - Bandit is a scene stealer!), so I left him out and made Hardison dogsit him.

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**Wingman**

The trouble with having a kid who used to be an adult is that he tends to go off on his own, with all the self-confidence of a deadly, military-trained man who used to kill-slash-hurt people for a living.

Actually, scratch that. Eliot as a kid had been pretty assertive and violent, too. Poor Mama. Lindsey now understands _completely_ how she must have felt _all_ the time with _two_ of them to look after. Like you just wanna _hit_ somebody. Except she took it out on her mixing bowls and the broom. Luckily, Lindsey now gets to punch people for a living. That relieves some of the stress. Some of it, anyway.

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Lindsey's explaining to the coffee shop barista that he wants a half-caf double vanilla latte, not a double-caf half vanilla latte.

Linny and his girly coffee. Not that Eliot doesn't like a nice chai with milk and loads of sugar (with a snowy-white mound of whipped cream on top) every once in a while, but a half-caf double vanilla latte? Seriously. It's an affront to masculinity in general.

Lindsey's being boring, so Eliot wanders off. It's not hard logic, guys. It's actually pretty simple: Lindsey boring, Eliot bored. Bored Eliot bad.

So he goes off in search for something more mentally stimulating than a debate on liquid measurements and coffee flavors.

Like that. Over there. _No,_ not the old dude with the hemorrhoids. _Her. _Now _she's_ interesting. Very interesting, on a biological level, that is.

"Hi," he says, stepping up to the buxom blonde sitting at the outdoor café table. He makes sure that he has the most adorable smile in his arsenal pasted on his face. It's fool-proof. "You're pretty."

Her face lights up, seeing a cute little kid with dimples and a missing tooth, all under a mop of curly dark blond hair. "Oh, thank you, sweetie," she says, "What's your name?"

"Eliot," he says shyly, then bursts out boldly with "What's yours?" complete with a lisp. He's friggin' adorable.

She smiles. "I'm Cindy. Where are your parents, Eliot?" She looks around, searching for a worried mom or dad.

"My daddy's over there," Eliot says, pointing inside the coffee shop at Lindsey, who's still arguing with the poor guy. "He thinks you're pretty, too."

Cindy obviously thinks that Lindsey's hot stuff himself, since her pupils dilate and her breath quickens.

"Really?" she says instead, "Where's your mom?"

Checking to see if he's single. Right on.

Cue sob story.

"My mommy died," Eliot says with the most pitiable expression imaginable. "Daddy says he should stop being Sad Daddy and be Happy Daddy again 'cause it's not fair f'r me to see him be sad alla time."

He blinks up at her bashfully. "Maybe _you_ can make him happy!" he says and gives her the Puppy-Dog Eyes of Doom.

She gives Eliot her number. Fifty-two seconds. Yes!

He may be seven, but he's still got it. Okay, maybe he used some different tactics from what he's used to, but the point is, Eliot has always been the twin who gets attention from the girls, and Lindsey...They might look the same, but they're different.

And female-repellent or not, Lindsey needs to get laid. Seriously. Look at how uptight he is, for god's sake! Arguing for ten minutes straight about a damn coffee that's not even hot anymore!

Speaking of Lindsey, at this point, he comes running out the door in a panic and picks Eliot right up off of the ground in one swift movement.

"Eliot, there you are. Thank god," he says, clutching him to his chest so tight that the breath is squeezed out of him. "Thought I lost you!"

Short legs dangling in the air, Eliot rolls his eyes, and pats him on the back. "Need ta breathe, _Daddy."_ He emphasizes the last word to remind Lindsey to stay in character.

Lindsey puts him down and frowns. "What did I say about running off like that and talking to strangers, Eliot?" He shakes him a little for emphasis. He would have shaken him a lot, if they weren't in public, but as it is, he holds back.

"Don't?" Eliot grins cheekily. "She's not a stranger anymore, Daddy! Her name's Cindy and she gave me this." He holds up the napkin with Cindy's number on it.

Lindsey takes it and gapes. "Uh. Um, Cindy," he says uncertainly, "You know what? I have to go. Work." He gives her a phony smile.

"Oh. Um, okay." Cindy looks like a rejected date.

Dude, not cool. After all Eliot's hard work trying to get Linny laid, he has to ruin it in under one minute? Not cool.

"_Daaaaad."_

Lindsey looks down at him. "What?"

Miniature eyebrows dance.

Comprehension dawns. "I mean- I- uh," Lindsey stutters, "I'll call you. Cindy." He grins and hauls Eliot down the street at a rapid pace.

"What the hell were ya doin'?" he hisses, "Scared the crap outta me when I couldn't find ya."

"I got bored."

Lindsey heaves an immense sigh. Eliot can almost hear him counting backwards in his head. In Latin. "You gotta stick with me when we're outside, Eliot," he says when he gets to _unus,_ "You can't just wander off like that. What if you got kidnapped, or- or got run over by a car, or- "

Eliot cuts him off before he can work himself up into a fit. "Linny, I'm fine."

Lindsey huffs. "Yeah, but you could've been _not _fine!"

"I got bored," Eliot whines. "Hey, where's your coffee?"

"Left it when I thought you were missing. By the way, you're buyin' my next one."

Lindsey cares more about Eliot than his coffee? Awwww.

"Double-caf half vanilla latte?" He can't help it. He really can't.

"Shut up."

"Hey, I'm still your wingman, right?" Eliot asks, skipping a little to catch up to his brother's longer stride. Just to make sure. Because even if he's not legally supposed to go to bars, he can still help his brother get dates from hot chicks. "Right? I'm still wingman?"

Lindsey scoffs. "I don't need a wingman."

Eliot disagrees. Lindsey probably hasn't been laid in at _least_ five years, maybe even since _her_, which was like, a _gazillion_ years ago. That's waaaaay too long.

"I don't," Lindsey insists. "If I want a date, I can get one on my own. Contrary to what you might think, I _am_ desirable to women, and I _don't_ need your help."

Eliot shrugs. Yeah, _whatever_. "Man, the tits on her," he says instead. "Didja see 'em? Didja? Didja?"

Lindsey makes a disgusted sound. "Don't be vulgar. You're _seven."_

"Don't tell me you weren't lookin'," Eliot snorts.

"I wasn't," Lindsey argues, then, after a brief pause, says, "34Cs?" with a sly smirk.

Eliot cackles. "Nice!" He holds his fist up for Lindsey to bump. "That's m' boy!"

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Reference:

Half-caf double vanilla latte - This is the Dean-proclaimed "girly" coffee that Sam orders in an episode of _Supernatural_.

"Her" - Eve. It's my opinion that Lindsey really was in love with her. Agree or disagree?

Latin translation:

_Unus_ - one


End file.
